The Massive Possum Flavored Burp
by Doc in Oz
Summary: Sarah has a problem, and calls on Chuck for help. After that, the title says it all.


As of 30 March 2012, I don't own Chuck et al.

What follows is as a result of a Twitter conversation, and possible covert low dose LSD trials by the CIA.

To get an idea of what we were talking about, search for "Possum breaks into bakery."

You will never see another animal more in need of Alka-Seltzer.

-o0o-

**Chuck vs The Massive Possum Flavored Burp**

Chuck was lazing at the Nerd desk, slightly daydreaming about a certain blonde Central Intelligence Agency operative who had been assigned to protect him, and who he was also a little bit (okay, a lot) in love with. His iPhone rang, disturbing the thoughts in his head.

Sarah (said CIA operative) Walker's image was smiling up at him from the phone screen, her hair in pigtails, and the red low cut wiener uniform framing both herself and the bottom of the photo.

Chuck thumbed the slide to answer still wearing the goofy grin from his daydream, "Hey, what's up?"

'_Chuck! Get over here! Now!'_ and then she hung up.

Chuck's smile vanished in a nanosecond. She sounded scared. But Sarah was never scared….

"Um…. Cas…..John? Can I see you for a moment?" Chuck almost cried out as he ran to the back of the store (appliances).

There was a heavy thump as a two door refrigerator was dropped back onto its feet. This was accompanied by a whimper of pain, and would have also had the sound of Harry Tang hopping around in pain if his left foot wasn't pinned by the fridge.

"Sorry Tang," growled Casey as he released the newly promoted assistant manager. "Whaddya want, Bartowski?"

Both utterances from the large man in the green polo shirt were of the same tone of irritation.

He watched Chuck hop from one foot to the other in a credible imitation of the 'I want to go to the toilet' dance.

Slightly incoherently, Chuck said, "Sarah….. scared….. just called….. we should…. Unk!" this last part was when Casey grabbed Chuck by the scruff of his neck and began dragging him to the store entrance.

At the doorway, Casey shoved Chuck to one side as he peered across the lot to the Wienerlicious, where his partner, Sarah Walker had a cover job. He checked the surroundings of the deep fried hot dog shop, the cars parked in the lot and what he could see of the entrance to the Buy More. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"Come on," he waved his hand at Chuck, and took the parking lot somewhat reminiscent of the Marines, or at least John Wayne, taking Iwo Jima. Chuck had to run to keep up with the trotting John Casey, who held his hands as if he had a weapon concealed under his belt.

As they neared the Wienerlicious, Casey amended his assault. He'd planned on using the brick wall as cover, but he could see Walker alone in the shop. He slowed, allowing Chuck to catch up and opened the door to enter.

Casey asked calm, but grumpily, "What's going on, Walker?"

Chuck cried, "Sarah!" and took a step closer to her before stopping.

Sarah Walker had backed herself up against the back wall of the store, and was not quite doing the 'toilet dance' as well as Chuck could, but she never took her eyes off something in the food prep area. "I, uh, I thought it was a rat, but….."

Chuck whipped his eyes over to where Sarah was trying to out-stare. There was the stacker of delivered buns, standard hot dogs and corn dogs. Half of each tray was empty. Then he saw what had 'emptied' the trays.

There was a gray furry football shaped object, but about twice the size of a gridiron ball. The furry football had eyes. And whiskers. And paws. Paws with claws. And a dark fluffy tail.

"What the hell _is_ that thing?" Casey asked the room.

The _thing_ stirred at the noise. But it was so stuffed with corn dogs et al, it could barely move. All it could do was roll an eye, and one paw twitched feebly.

Chuck moved cautiously closer, holding his phone out like a shield. When he got close enough, which was a lot closer than felt comfortable, he thumbed his iPhone. _Whir, click!_ went the camera. Nonchalantly, definitely not scuttling, he moved back to the group. He twiddled with the phone for a bit, and then the phone _beeped_.

"Okay…. It looks like our furry friend over there is a Brush-tailed Possum. Native to Australia, New Guinea and a feral pest in New Zealand after it was introduced," announced Chuck.

Sarah said, "A brush tailed….."

"Possum."

"Is it dangerous?"

"Says here," said Chuck reading from his phone, "Omnivore, insects, small lizards that sort of thing. No, not dangerous."

"So, why is the man in that photo wearing welding gloves to hold one up?" Casey pointed at the entry on the phone.

"Well, I guess those claws are for tree climbing. They might hurt," guessed Chuck with a shrug.

"How did it get here?" Casey wanted to know.

Chuck had a flashback to Saturday morning cartoons, Sylvester the cat, and the crate falling off the circus train. _Oh, father…._

All three felt safer to get closer now the possum had been identified.

"Possum, huh? Well, I guess he's kinda cute," decided Sarah. She got closer, and peered down at the furry football, "Yes, you're cute. And stuffed, aren't you? You're so full, you can't even move."

And at precise moment, the possum was able to stretch, and rent the air with a massive, and possum flavored, burp.

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP!

Right into Sarah's face.

Chuck noticed two things, first, the woman he loved backed away very quickly, fanning the air. Second, the furry football was now less football shaped and looked a little more like the animal in the picture.

Shortly after that, the waft of second-hand corn dogs and possum burp found him.

Chuck, Casey and Sarah stood outside the Weinerlicious.

"Maybe we should call the zoo or something," said Chuck.

"Not so cute anymore, is he Walker?" said Casey.

-o0o-


End file.
